Unearthed and Unbounded: A Tale of Two
by m0saique
Summary: In the ancient city-state of Uruk, there ruled a cruel and arrogant King. Hoping to humble the King, the Gods propose an alliance with a city in the West. To the west, in the classical city of Camelot, there ruled a King burdened by the struggles and shame of her subjects. She accepts the alliance, but is she prepared for the things that happen next?
1. Humble: A Prologue

There was a man

Sent to earth

To quell the unearthed messes of the masses

He walked without falter

He spoke without fail

His body built mountains

And his feet quieted the earth.

* * *

There was a woman

Born to earth

As a saviour for the masses

Her words never faltered

Her steps rarely failed

Her body brought storms

And the earth erupted at her touch.


	2. GOD: Gilgamesh - Chapter One

_Hello friends, this is my first time writing (and publishing) a fanfic. I'm a big fan of Gilber fanfic and I just felt like there wasn't enough, so I wrote my own. I feel as if there a couple things that should be said before the story begins. First things first, this is an AU in which both Mesopotamia and Britian exist simultaneously. Secondly, Saber will be a woman, but for the beginning parts of the story she will be masc. Finally, reviews and comments are more than welcome. As I said before this is the first fic I've ever written so suggestions would be really appreciated:-) I can be reached at my tumblr mosaiique if any of you decide to reach out to me! I'll stop talking now, enjoy the story!_

* * *

The servants in the hall stopped suddenly as a shout erupted from the throne room. Each looking at one another fearfully, taking a quick glance at the room of interest, and dispersing swiftly. It was unusual to hear any noises other than the quiet murmuring of voices, and occasional outbreak of voices raised in laughter. The room in question was where the King held his weekly conferences, where matters were dealt with and propositions were discussed.

To be perfectly honest, the conferences were unnecessary. Since Gilgamesh had succeeded his father, the city-state of Uruk had flourished tenfold. The conferences were really done out of courtesy for the many advisors and councillors that stood by Gilgamesh's side. Although he had already deemed them completely and utterly useless, he felt an unusual pang of empathy towards them, and decided to keep that to himself.

That never stopped him from showing how downright and unreservedly bored he was. Sometimes something peeked his interest, but never for too long. And in the end, he always had the final say, nothing was agreed upon or even spoken of unless he decided so.

His one and only true friend, Enkidu, often made these conferences more bearable. The two often whispered jokes back and forth, and the only advice he would ever listen to was Enkidu's. Enkidu was the only person who seemed to be Gilgamesh's equal, and the only person worthy of his attention.

But it seemed the Gods did not agree upon their union, and plucked Enkidu from Gilgamesh, leaving a hole that felt like it would never heal.

The removal of a person so close to Gilgamesh appeared to be the reason for his ever increasing sour mood. Of course, even on a good day, Gilgamesh was cruel and brash, but that attitude heightened after Enkidu died.

This particular conference, on this particular day, only seemed to drag on and on. The usually warm and sunny Mesopotamian sky had become shrouded in uncharacteristically dark clouds, with sporadic showers of rain happening throughout the day. As Gilgamesh sat on his throne, with his lion, Utu, sleeping peacefully upon his lap, he couldn't help but think that maybe he placed _too_ many windows in his palace. As the rain continued to comedown more bountifully and heavily, the servants had been rushing around pulling tapestries over the opened windows, and drying any puddles they came into contact with.

It didn't help that before his conference, Gilgamesh stepped directly into a puddle, soaking his sandals and linen trousers. After chewing out the pale servant in front of him for failing to do even the simplest of tasks, he made his way to the throne room, preparing himself mentally to be unequivocally bored for the next 2 hours.

Except that boredom never came, and he found himself completely enveloped in rage.

Halfway through the conference, Gilgamesh and his advisors found their meeting interrupted by a priestess of the city temple.

Gilgamesh sneered. A while ago he decided there was no point in hiding his disdain for the Gods, or how he was openly repulsed at how the locals, and his servants seemed to kiss the ground the priests and priestess' walked on. When Enkidu was still alive, he tried to instill into Gilgamesh the fact that it was the Gods who gave Gilgamesh the power to rule Uruk, and that his reign had been thoroughly blessed by each and every one. He also tried to remind Gilgamesh that priests and priestess' held the same regard as Kings, as they were the ones who truly closed the gap between Gods and Humanity. Gilgamesh bristled at that; when he was younger his father impressed into him that he was the only one who could govern Uruk, and that he was the only one who could possibly close the gaps between Gods and Humans, as he possessed both qualities.

However, despite the intrusion, the priestess, who was swathed in white from head to toe, hailed from his mother's temple. So when she waltzed in, and asked if she could be privy to this discussion, Gilgamesh had no choice but to say yes, not without reminding her that if she were anybody else, she would be dead.

When her turn to speak finally came, Gilgamesh immediately regretted allowing her in the room when the proposition she brought to the discussion was spoken aloud.

"Absolutely not," Gilgamesh snarled, "I refuse to align _my_ kingdom with some ruin in the west. As long as I am alive, and I remain King, no alliance with any city or country alike will come to fruition."

The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift dramatically. What was once a dreary, grey cast room, suddenly became tense. The lion on Gilgamesh's lap sensed it too, waking up suddenly, and baring his teeth.

Anyone in the room could draw the similarities between Gilgamesh and his lion at that moment, both golden, both intimidating, both strong. Even the look in their eyes was similar. There was a cold, unnerving type of depth they both had, even when the King smiled, it didn't seem to reach his eyes. What made that look even more intimidating was the fact his eyes were the colour of fresh blood, and that his pupils were slitted like a cats. Anyone looking upon him at this point saw that his humanity had been revoked, and it became quite apparent, (if it had already not been) that the man in front of them was not completely human.

All the advisors and councillors in the room seemed to bunch together slowly, their eyes widening at the threat that had just made itself clear. Each of them tried to make themselves smaller, hoping that they could keep the Kings attention off of them. Unfortunately, a chalice on the table rolled off, momentarily attracting the Kings attention to the ever shrinking group of advisors.

"All of you get out," He hissed. "All except for you." He spoke, glaring daggers in the priestess before him.

All other habitants of the room dispersed, bowing hastily before making their departure.

Now the only occupants in the room were the King and the Priestess. The large cat started to pace around the room, as it usually did before expecting a meal.

A stare down ensued. Both parties summing each other up, both deciding who would speak first.

This period gave Gilgamesh the time to look carefully at the person before him. She was garbed in the typical loose fitting white gowns attributed to his mother's temple. A simple lace veil was placed on her head. Part of Gilgamesh wished the clothing was less prudish. He felt like one could dedicate one's life to the Gods without looking like a ghost. But it was a choice these women made, and he had no power to change that.

However the loose fitting clothes and veil couldn't hide the beauty this women possessed. Her black, almond-shaped eyes stared unwaveringly at him, gazing proudly at him down her hooked nose, common to the time. Her lips were full, and red, reminding those who gazed upon them of pomegranates. Her long eyelashes seemed to cast shadows on her high cheek bones, and even the veil couldn't hide the long dark hair this women possessed.

She stood proudly, back straight, meeting his gaze and never faltering.

Yes, in every way this woman was beautiful. But beauty hardly impressed Gilgamesh. Since he was born, Gilgamesh was exposed to everything beautiful. Eventually such things lost their appeal. Of course, he was still appreciative of the beauty surrounding him, but such things only caught his attention momentarily.

Not to mention this women was a priestess, and they practiced celibacy. Gilgamesh scoffed out loud, slowly making his way to the woman standing in front him. His feet delicately striking the stone floors, until they were face to face.

The silence continued until Gilgamesh rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, his bare feet tapping the ground, making his ever growing impatience well known.

The priestess studied Gilgamesh wearily, before leaning against one of the pillars and slowly repeated herself.

"The Gods wish for you to align yourself with a city in the west. They feel as if you've grown more arrogant in the past months and think a union between you and the monarch in the west would humble you slightly." She said all of this lazily, crossing her arms and looking calmly at the tapestries covering the windows, which seemed to throw the room into an early twilight.

"God singular, that's what you meant, right?" He asked coldly. Only one of the many Gods would make this type of suggestion.

"Hmm?" she replied. All the while attempting to pet the large cat that was stalking quietly closer to her.

Eyes narrowing, Gilgamesh snapped. No one spoke this casually to him, and if this was any other person they would have been dealt with already.

"Only one God would have the audacity to suggest something like this to me," Gilgamesh sneered. He whistled low, and Utu came to his side, sitting still as a statue.

"Yes, it was your mother actually who suggested that. I'm merely relaying the message." She said all of this smoothly, Gilgamesh could practically hear the smirk on her lips. She strolled over to the large table, white dress dragging lazily on the floor. She picked up one of the chalices on the table, sniffing it cautiously, then slowly took a sip.

This triggered Gilgamesh, and he let go of the loose grip he held on the reigns of his rage, and let his anger take complete control of his body.

He lurched suddenly. Slapping the cup from her hand, and slamming her body into the pillar behind her.

There was an audible crack as her body made contact with the pillar. Fear and pain flashed momentarily in her eyes before being quickly replaced with a cold, unnerving stare.

Hand on her throat, Gilgamesh stared at her, nostrils flaring.

"You seem to have a complete and utter lack of manners," He stated coldly, "One would think that a woman with your status would at least try and act as if they were raised decently and not act like a common harlot willing to spread her legs for a pretty penny."

The cold stare the priestess possessed was replaced by rage, but before she could attempt to say anything the hand on her throat tightened.

Her eyes started to bulge, and her hands attempted to loosen the hold the Kings hand had on her neck. Sharp nails scratching relentlessly on the hand that held her so closely to the point of death.

Suddenly the hand dropped and the priestess feel to her knees, hands clawing at her throat and gasping for air. Strands of spit hanging from her mouth as she coughed roughly.

Gilgamesh watched this whole scene with disgust. Smirking, he crouched and whispered into the priestess' ear.

"Relay this message to my mother, since that seems to be the only talent your pitiful body possess: If she wishes for me to do anything, she will come and convince me herself. The next time she sends a messenger, she will receive their tongue in a box."

Getting up, Gilgamesh turned his back on the sight before him. He stroked Utu's fur absentmindedly, and made his way to the door.

Glancing behind him slightly, he took one last look at the struggling priestess. He closed his eyes softly, imprinting the vision in his mind. Letting out a soft chuckle, he left the room.

He snapped his fingers at a servant walking down the hall, and told the servant to escort the priestess back to the temple. The servant nodded, and bowing low, made his way into the room.

Gilgamesh looked down at the large cat by his side.

"You hungry, Utu?"

The cats' ears perked as he started to get restless.

Gilgamesh let out a low chuckle.

There was something about humans struggling that made Gilgamesh absolutely ravenous.


	3. Saber: interlude

I started to draw into myself,

To recede slightly,

It made things easier,

I got to have some distance.

* * *

I no longer saw a correlation with the worldly objects around me,

I became the perfect image of myself,

Vast and Void,

Unchanging and Eternal.

* * *

I soon realized my subconscious was no longer a safe place for me,

The place where my entity and my humanity collided,

Erupted

And I was born anew.

* * *

But all I felt,

Was a thin layer,

Of unshakeable disquiet.


	4. ELEMENT: Saber - Chapter Two

_Hey friends! It's been a really long time! I can't tell you how many times I started this chapter, deleted it, started over again, deleted that, and so on. It took me a really long time to write something I was happy with, so I hope you guys don't mind the wait. The next chapter will probably be out a lot sooner then this one (I hope.) The beginnings of the next chapter have been circling around my head long before I even thought of what I wanted to write for this one. Thanks again for taking the time to read the things I put out. Enjoy!_

* * *

 _Heat._

 _Unbearable heat._

 _Sweat dripped down my blouse._

 _In the distance there was a man,_

 _As tall as a tower, and as golden as the sun._

 _But I felt no hint of fear,_

 _Nor touch of envy._

 _His vision brought me peace,_

 _And awakened something beyond my understanding._

* * *

"This is the third goat! the third goat that has gone missing this month, surly no one would call it a coincidence." As the man spoke, his yellow teeth flashed, and his black eyes seemed to swirl with unearthed anger.

A civil dispute, the guards called it. What was meant to be an honest conversation, turned into a battle of insults spewed at the other, until it become a fully recognized blood bath.

The man standing next to him was bloodied, his nose misshapen and swollen. He held a rag to his face, which muffled his words. It didn't help that he was foreign, and spoke with a strange accent that belonged to some other land.

The man frowned, all though I could not see it, I knew he was still spewing curses under his breath, _why must I be here,_ he thought, _what have I done to deserve being bloodied and broken? Nothing. Absolutely nothing._

The man expressed this discontent. His brows furrowed as he spoke.

"I have no use for goats," his voice was swollen with anger and his strange accent was harsh against my ears, "I work metal, I craft swords. Goats mean nothing to me, there value is something I know nothing of. I have made twice as much from a simple knife."

That set the other man off, his beady eyes flashing as his voice rose with anger. I could almost feel his hot breath, his fury crashing down in damp heat.

"Enough," I spoke loudly. My voice was scratchy from misuse, the two men had been arguing for what seemed to be hours. I had listened to them out of boredom, a sweet ending to what should've been a short day of court.

But I had miscalculated the anger of men; I forgot how wars could be waged on the simplest of things. A beautiful women, a land of abundance, a goat even.

It was now past midday, and my stomach growled with hunger. It didn't help either, that winter had just set in, and the castle was so cold I felt a chill that seemed to reach my bones.

Both men now looked at me. Both angry and watching, waiting for which side I would favour.

"Has it ever occured to you," my voice seemed to resonate through the hall, a faint echo sighed after each word I spoke, "that maybe wolves could be taking them? Both of you live on the outskirts of town, you said yourself earlier that you have no watchdog, nor any gatekeeper of the sorts."

The man blinked slowly, stupidly. _No, he had not thought of that._

He didn't speak right away. His feet scuffed on the floor, as if he were tracing the steps of a rather awkward dance, and his mouth opened and closed, as if he were trying to taste the air before him. When he did speak, his words were tainted with this child like guilt, of genuine ignorance and frustration.

"My king, you must excuse my foolishness. You see, the neighbor before him really did steal from me. I wanted to be cautious this time, I did not want to be taken advantage of, or made to look an ass. If I must, I will pay whichever fine you put before me, I-."

The hand that was placed upon my cheek rose to stop the rest of his speech. This had dragged on long enough, and I wished now more than ever, to put an end to such a tiresome day.

"It is not a matter of _must_ , you will pay a fine. Here is this man, who was brought to me bloodied and broke. Accused of crimes of which he did not commit; and yet you stand there as if what you have done is just, and sound, and worth explanation. You will give half a weeks pay. My guards will see to the rest."

And with that, the men were ushered out of the room. I saw the mans mouth open, as if to protest. But as he was moved so quickly, the words were lodged in his throat. The other man bowed his head as he left, I'm sure he murmured a word of thanks, but as the cloth was still covering his face, it went unheard.

I didn't mind it, the anger, the indgination. Some others would take offense it, recoil at the idea of their own people speaking out to them, showing even a morsel of defiance.

I will not lie, when I had first become king, I too would bristle at the anger that came after a sentencing. I wasn't upset because they spoke out, I was disquieted with the fact that their words stung deep and hot, like a knife.

I had tried in my earliest days, to be as fair and impartial as possible. But I soon realized that what was fair to some, wasn't fair to others. No matter how even-handed, how cool headed, or opened-minded I was, there would always be a problem.

The ruling was never enough, I was never enough.

Now, I shouldered these inadequacies as if they were a very large sack weighing down on me. Neither their haughty looks, nor slight jabs could hurt me the way that I have hurt myself.

I am not a proper king, and I know I never will be.

* * *

I sat in a small corner of the kitchen. I had already missed the midday meal, but the kitchen staff still buzzed around me; always someone to feed, always something to clean, another large meal to cook. Before me sat a plate of bread, meat and cheese; This was my third helping.

 _You have an appetite ten times that of true man; perhaps they'll mistake you as a wolf instead._

An old memory of Merlin made its way to the forefront of my mind. _Merlin._ He had gone, on one of his many escapades. However, when I asked him when he would be coming back, he gave me a strange a look. _That's not up to me,_ he said. Before I could ask him what that really meant, he was gone, leaving nothing but a sweet smelling breeze.

As I was lost in thought, I didn't notice the small boy standing in front of me. One of the cooks children, couldn't be older than four. He spoke softly at first, but soon came to realize that I wasn't paying attention. His mother, who stood somewhere behind me, must of motioned for him to speak up, as the next time he spoke I heard him loud and clear.

"My lord," I heard his voice then. Still soft with a babyish lisp, his curls from boyhood had not yet flattened. "You are required at the round table. It is very urgent, and I must take you there right away."

With that, he looked at me, waiting for me to move. I blinked, once, then twice. _Require you at the round table. Very urgent._ Those words should've stirred some sort of panic from me, but coming from such a small boy, I felt a small bubble of laughter rise in my throat. I stamped it down quickly; I knew what people thought of me already, and I did not want to add fuel to the fire.

I got up steadily, then turned to the cook. She was still watching her son, round face and bright eyes glowing in admiration. When she saw me looking, she lowered her eyes.

"Thank you for the meal, it was much appreciated," I turned to the boy now, his eyes bright. "Take me where you must, feel free to lead the way."

The boy reached for my hand, his small and soft and my own rough and calloused, with that, we were gone.

I knew the twists and turns of the castle like no other. That's why this whole thing felt like some sort of trick. _Why send a small boy to take me to a place I have been 100 times?_ I could almost hear the room burst into fits of mirth as I walked in. They did like to play tricks sometimes, calling a meeting in one place while actually being in another, switching seating spots to see if they could put me off balance. It hardly worked, and I would usually get the last laugh. But sometimes, they would get the best of me; it was their only chance of seeing me red in the face.

But this time, something felt different. The halls were cold, yes, but a different type of cold. A cold that made you sneak from your bed at night, and lay with your mother. The halls seemed unnaturally empty, so tranquil is was frightening. _The calm before the storm,_ I we finally reached the room, something stopped me.

Something made me feel that if I were to open that door, I could never close it. Whatever was behind that door, I was about to unleash it full force. That thought scared me; not so much the idea of unleashing a beast, but being unable to control it.

What I was thinking must have shown on my face, as I felt a small tug on my robe. I looked down to the small face of the boy staring back at me. His face was bare, but his eyes showed his blind panic.

"My lord," he spoke softly, his voice betraying a small hint of fear. "May I be excused?"

I nodded slowly, and without further thought, I crossed the threshold.

* * *

But when I opened the door, there were no men doubled over in laughter, nor traps set before me. There were only two men, and the looks on their faces confirmed all of my suspicions.

Lancelot sat at the table, his dark eyes staring at something before him. Merlin was positioned behind him, his hand resting on his chin. My heart leapt slightly upon seeing him. _Merlin._ His hair had grown out, the bright red curls seemed to bounce off his porcelain skin. I warmed up then, when I saw him. But when his eyes met mine, that faint warmth drained from me completely.

"What is it?" My question came out harsher then I had wanted it to too, both sets of eyes were drawn to me now.

"You might want to take a look at this." Lancelot's deep voice resonated in the small room; despite the serious look on his face, he sounded calm, as if we were just talking about our day.

I walked towards them, the sound of my boots hitting the floor seemed to be amplified in the small room. When I reached to them, I stood behind Lancelot, and picked up the letter before him.

The letter itself was beautiful. Embroidered on the page were very small pictures depicting the birth of a god. Which god it was alluded me; I was never well versed on mythology. But I could immediately tell this letter came from someplace far, as the script was written in a language I had never seen before.

I put the letter back down on the table and looked to Merlin, "What does this say?"

"I'm not actually too sure myself." He said softly. The hand resting on his chin had made its way in his hair, attempting to brush back the curls that had made their way into his face, "I've only been able to translate bits and pieces, but this letter exceeds my knowledge. From what I've been able to discern, there is a city in the east that wishes to align itself with you."

I looked directly at him then, taken aback. _Something that exceeds Merlins knowledge._ That scared me; since I was young Merlin seemed to have this vast river of knowledge that he could pull from whenever he wanted. Hearing him acknowledge that something was beyond him frightened me.

It seemed to frighten Lancelot as well, because he pushed the letter away from him and stood up quickly. He towered over me then, and I had to look up at him when he spoke. The light coming through the window casted a harsh shadow on his face. He looked pale and desolate, like the snow that was piling up outside.

"I don't like this," His voice rang loud and clear, "A strange letter, a language beyond Merlin, an unknown city, and they want to align themselves with us? We should rid ourselves of this letter, and go on with our days."

The way he spoke was frantic, stressed even. For some reason, hearing the tension in his voice alleviated some of mine. Lancelot was strong mentally and physically, but his mind seemed to run to the worst possible outcomes. Hearing him speak in the worrisome tones he always did, stabilized my thoughts, if just for a moment.

"This letter is strange, I will admit that. But to ignore it would be the height of disrespect. Everyone can tell that this city, wherever it is, and whatever it's named-"

"Uruk," Merlin interjected quietly, "The city is named Uruk."

 _Uruk._ In my head an image flashed. _A man as gold as the sun, so bright it burned._ The name of the city brought back a dream I kept having. I never thought anything of it before, and even now I couldn't really see the connection. But I felt it, I could feel the two merging themselves together, until they became one.

"Well this Uruk, as you've called it, is obviously a very wealthy city. Look at this letter. Do you see how it's written? And this is probably what they would consider a simple letter."

I moved over so I could look at both of them when I spoke. It was more looking up to them then looking at them. It wasn't that they were incredibly tall, I was just very short. An old memory of Merlin played in my head. _I could give you something to make you taller, then they will treat you as a real man._ I gave him an answer then, one haughty and still tainted in childish anger. _They will have no choice but to treat me as a 'real man,' I will see to that._

"I think, we should consider it. This letter, however unsubstantial it is, shows us enough about this city then we've ever known. We don't have to make a decision now, but I think we should try and find a way to contact them and tell them we're thinking about it. We'll gather the rest of the men in three days, and have a formal conversation then."

I looked to the letter, and frowned. Looking at Merlin, I think he saw me connect the dots in my head, as a coy smile made its way across his face.

"Merlin, where did you get this letter from?" I tried to ask this question as casually as possible. The minute he knew I wanted an actual answer, is when I was the least likely to get it from him.

But he had seen through it, I've never been good at being sly. I watched as Merlin turned his back on me, then looked back over his shoulder.

"I can't answer that for a number of reasons," He said this as he walked closer to the door, his thin pale fingers trailing along the edge of the table. "One of the reasons is that it would take a lot of time and a lot of energy. Usually because you interject often, with very silly questions." He reached the door. Before opening it he looked over his shoulder one last time and said, "I will let them know you are interested. But act quickly, they are as fickle as they are powerful."

With that, he opened the door, and walked quietly through it.

"You shouldn't let him talk to you like that. You're a king, you should remind him of that." Lancelot's voice was quieter this time, as if he were speaking to himself.

I shrugged my shoulders slightly, "Merlin belongs to no king, nor any human, not even a God. My status as king means nothing to him, in his eyes I am still the child he helped raise."

"Still," Lancelot said as he stroked his beard, "Everyone else treats you as they should. And so should he." He smiled at me then, he meant to sound comforting. A small voice in the back of my head told me to smile back. But I knew from experience that the smile never reached my eyes, and it always looked as if someone was forcing me to.

I looked around the room, suddenly reminded that we were the only two in here. I looked back at him, and took in his image for a second.

I saw the way the maids and the servants looked at him, the whispers that would follow him as he walked through the halls. Lancelot is what most would consider handsome. With dark eyes, and high cheeks. He had the colour of a man who was used to being outside, and the hands of a man who spent quite a lot of time fighting. I never saw in him all the things everyone else seemed to see so well, and for a very long time I thought there might be something wrong with me. I soon realized that it didn't really matter anyway, as he seemed to look at me the same way everyone else did.

The Cold King, they nicknamed me. Yes I was just, and yes I was kind, but I was always so distant. They reasoned it was because I spent so much time with Merlin that I ended up being so strange, that I ended up losing touch with what little humanity I had left. I know Lancelot felt the same, as he was always careful to never get too close to me.

I looked back at the letter on the table. I traced the edges again before folding it carefully and placing it into the pocket of my trousers. I spoke to him then, vocalizing a question that I had wanted to ask since walking into this room.

"How did you get yourself involved in this anyway? I was expecting to see a room full of men, but it was just you two."

"Well, I don't actually have a good answer to that." He said this as he scratched his head, "I was simply just walking down the hall, and I saw that the door was opened. When I looked inside, it was just Merlin. Shortly after I sat down you arrived."

"Oh." I let out a small chuckle, "So you've found yourself in a rather odd position, haven't you?"

"I guess I have, yes. But we'll have all the men gathered, and soon they will know just as much as me."

I had a feeling that the conversation was reaching its end so I made my way to the door. As I was about to open it, Lancelot said one last thing.

"Are you really considering this? I'm asking as one friend to another."

 _Friend._ I never considered Lancelot my friend. But he deserved an answer.

"I don't see any reason not to, an alliance with a powerful city is everything a King could dream of." I said this while looking over my shoulder, even with my back faced towards him, I could still see the uncertainty on his face.

"You and I both know that you are not like any other King." He came closer to me now, reaching for the hand that lay on the door knob. I looked to him, as he pulled my hand aside and held the door open for me. He was right, I am not like any other king.

"Our desires, and even the desires of others, come to us as if they were heaven. Don't be surprised when you find yourself entrapped in somebody's hell."

I nodded at him, so he knew that I registered what he said. "Thank you for your advice." My voice reverberated in the empty hall. He nodded back at me.

"I'll be seeing you at dinner then, please tell Guinevere I said hello." With that, he was gone, the sound of his boots rang loud in the hall.

What he said kept swimming around my head, _Our desires, and even the desires of others, come to us as if they were heaven._ Or maybe they come in the form of dreams, in the shape of a man who shines so brightly he's envied by the sun.

 _Bring me to this heaven,_ I thought to myself. _I will show them hell._


	5. Update on story - Ending of Fic

Hello! It has been a very long time since I've last been on here and for some obvious reasons I feel some type of obligation to update anyone who might see this on what I've been doing. I started this fic during the final years of high school. Since then I've finished my first year of university (I got into the science program!) and decided to update everyone as opposed to studying for my biology/math exams J. Sadly I don't think I'm going to come back to this story any time soon. It's a little cringy to read on my part and if I were to come back to it, I would most likely start completely from the beginning, which I don't have any particular interest in doing. So I am leaving this story unfinished. As, I write this now, I'm certain many people will not be reading this, but for those who are, and for those who enjoyed this story, thank you! I started writing this purely for fun, but actively writing or producing any type of medium is time consuming, and difficult. I don't think it's something I am willing to do at the moment. So, I'm grateful to all those who read this and all those who enjoyed this, and I hope you all have a great time in whatever you're doing at the moment.

Thank you Again,

A.

p.s If anyone makes the decision to continue this story for themselves, go ahead! In most recent times I was thinking about the ending I imagined for this story, but I don't think I would every create a romantic one – I really don't think I could ever make a romantic ending, I don't even know why, but it just seems odd to me now.


End file.
